Dancing With The Devil
by MonocleWearingChicken
Summary: It had started on that night all those years ago at Bobby Reese's Party. The scars that horrid evening left on you remain to this day and the evils that cursed the Freddy Fazbear restaurants are still threatening to drive you to madness. An newly opened fright attraction however has given you the opportunity to face your fears and put an end to the pain once and for all.
1. Chapter 1

FNAF and everything associated with it belongs to the wonderful Scott Cawthon, not me.

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Part 1.

You are a small child, eight years old to be exact. It's a warm summer evening and you are sitting at a table in the local Freddy Fazbear pizzeria surrounded by other cheering, shouting children. They're excited, it's a special occasion and the usual rules and restrictions don't apply tonight. Some of them are up past their bed time while others are running about with bellies full of sugar and junk food. You want to join them, you want to be excited but anxiety chains you and whittles away your high spirits. You don't know why nature has chosen to burden you with this brutal inadequacy. Dad says you're just sensitive to the things others miss or just refuse to see; you don't know what that means but Dad knows all things so he must be right. Bobby Reese, the birthday boy, wasn't making it any easier for you either. Not content with making your school days a nightmare he'd seemingly invited you along just because it meant another present for the pile.

There is a sudden rise in excited squeals from the other side of the restaurant. In amongst the ordered chaos little Bobby Reese was having a birthday hat placed on his head by a large animatronic bear, the eponymous Freddy Fazbear. Freddy was flanked on either side by the restaurant's other mascots Bonnie the bunny and Chica the chicken. The ambling bear and his friends fumble with various presents and toys for the other children while their 'people friends' in the purple button up t-shirts watch over the proceedings with big smiles and keen eyes. Dad had once called Freddy's troop of purple clad followers 'handlers'. Meaningless syllables to you, all you know is that Freddy never went anywhere without a purple clad friend trailing behind.

You watch as Chica works her way down the table handing out brightly coloured cupcakes to the party kids. You used to be scared of Freddy and his troop. The sound of whirring gears deep in their guts and the staccato, inhuman movements were off-putting. But that had been before fearless big sister Jen had taken you by the hand and introduced you to the gang. They hadn't mocked your timidness, or made fun of the nervous crackle in your voice, they just left you with a smile, a pat on the head and a fistful of candy.

Speaking of which…

"Hey there kiddo! Do you want a cupcake?"

You turn to see Chica and her friend presenting you with her tray of rainbow delicacies; the velvet soft frosting swirled to look like flowers, their little candy jewels glistening with kaleidoscopic colour. You glance over her various offerings, the sweet sugary aromas making your mouth water. Chica waits patiently. You spot the last white cake with silver sprinkles.

"May I have that one?"

"You sure can." Chica's friend twists the tray around so your short arm can reach the sweet prize.

"Thank you." You politely take the cake, happy at how it reminds you of snow and clouds and all things soft.

The animatronic bird sets her sights on another group of children and shuffles off to hand out the last of the cakes, leaving you alone to your feast.

"Hey."

You recoil internally at the sound of snickering and that petulant voice. You turn around reluctantly to see Bobby Reese and his pose staring at you with his smug plump face.

"That's my cake."

You look down at the wafer light cake in your hand a tightness growing in your chest.

"You've already had yours."

"I am the birthday boy and it's my special day. I can have as much cake as I want."

You hold the cake tighter and Bobby notices.

"Give me the cake or I'll tell mum you ruined my Birthday."

You know it's pointless to resist, you know what's coming. It will play out just as it always does. You hand the cake over to the spiteful boy but not without an ache in the back of your throat. You are always losing your treasures to that prat. Secretly you hope he chokes just a little bit on it.

He takes it with his chubby little hand and decapitates the soft snow white head with one gargantuan bite. His peppermint red cheeks bulge with the load, crumbs falling out of his mouth with every chew.

You look around but no one comes to tell Bobby off for his antics. Freddy and the others had moved off to serve the other party and you are on your own.

You sigh and drag yourself away from the other children, as you search for a new place of solitude you spot Foxy standing on his stage looking as lonely and neglected as you feel.

"I don't want it any more. You can have what's left."

You hear the remains of the cake hit the floor behind you, but you don't dare give the bully the satisfaction of acknowledgement. Your shoes squeak on the tile floor as you cross over to Pirate cove. You hesitate because you know you're not supposed to be here. You glance over your shoulder but no one notices your absence and someone had shoved another present under Bobby's nose distracting him and his puppet friends.

Foxy's purple shirted friend didn't notice your presence either; she was distracted, rummaging around underneath his stage for something. You're glad because she looks scary with the dark tattoos of dragons on her arms, spikey earrings and hair. She reminds you a bit of a human porcupine. You wonder if her spikes were also to ward off predators and undesired attention.

"Hello Foxy," your voice is barely above a whisper so you're not entirely surprised when the Fox continues to stand slumped and asleep. You look nervously at the tattoo girl still digging underneath the stage.

"Hey Foxy."

This time the fox twitches to life, his puffy fox tail swishing around like a crank.

"Ahoy there matey!" he barks, a little louder than you would have liked. The fox pauses as if confused and looks about his ears twitching.

"Where be your crew matey?"

You look at your toes embarrassed and ashamed, that bubble of ache growing inside your chest again.

"They threw me overboard."

Foxy blinks his good eye blankly at you before putting his hook hand under his chin in thought. He thinks so long and hard you almost expect to see steam coming out his ears.

"Ah, ye be fine. You can swim to shore and find a new crew, then ye be the captain"

"Wow, Foxy the fortune cookie. Pretty profound for a pre-programed response. "

The voice from under the stage makes you jump. The girl with the illustrated arms stands up and heaves a dusty old box onto the corner of Foxy's stage. She looks at your surprised face and her hard eyes soften.

"I'm sorry kid, I shouldn't have said that. Foxy and I have circumnavigated the seven seas with some pretty rough crews today."

You think of Bobby Reese and his friends and understand. There is a painful silence as she digs through the box and Foxy just stares at you.

"Why do you have all the tattoos?" You think maybe the question will lighten her mood. They look like they took a lot of effort to draw were probably pretty important to her.

The girl quickly pulls her sleaves down as far as they will go.

"That be her pirate garb."

"No Foxy," she quickly scans the room. "It's not really." She looks at you imploringly, "Seriously kid I am not supposed be drawing attention to them. The admiralty is already threatening to have me walk the unemployment plank if I keep letting the kids see my pirate… origins."

"Yargh, mutiny! Tis the pirate way."

"Wha- Foxy no!" The girl casts you a nervous sideways glance. "Seriously what is wrong with you today Foxy?"

"It be a pirates life for me."

She raises a curious eyebrow at the animatronic fox.

"Besides if I mutiny the admiralty will tell all the other captains in the East India Trading Company and then none of them will have me on their crew."

So much of what the pirate girl says is just strange names and weird words, but underneath all of that you sense a familiar theme. "So you have friends that throw you overboard too?"

She laughs. "You are going to have a lot of people throw you overboard in your life kid. But like Foxy says, it just makes you better swimmer and teaches you to hang out with better crews."

Something about those words makes you perk up a little, washes away some of the scum that the day's perils had left you with.

"You should become a captain. I'd be on your crew."

She smiles at you, a big, genuine friendly smile; it makes you think of warm summers.

"Thanks kid, that's sweet of you."

The mention of captains and crews stirs Foxy too. He swishes his tail and flicks his ears. "Ye be a fine captain yourself." He reaches over and snatches a dusty pirate's hat from the old box and plops it on your head.

"Foxy! I can't just…" The pirate girl slumps defeated the last of her energy gone. "Whatever."

You don't care that the hat is two sizes too big, you don't care that it's covered in musty old dust. It's possibly the coolest thing your young eyes have ever seen. Its leather and looks just like those tri-corner hats you see the movie pirates wearing, with silver studs lining the brim and a purple feather so big it falls below your knees.

"Here, suppose I should give you something too." The pirate girl pulls a spikey bracelet from her pocket and ties it around your wrist.

"Now you're a proper pirate like Foxy and I. Just don't tell anyone were you got this ok."

She winks at you, and turns back to the dusty box of bits and pieces.

You're almost bursting with pride and joy.

"Thank you soooooo much!" You want to hug the girl but hesitate, unsure as to whether or not tough tattoo wearing girls do hug. Instead you settle for helping her put the bits and pieces back into the stage box.

"What's this?" You hold up a faded poster that has a picture of an unfamiliar yellow Freddy with buttons down his chest standing next to a yellow Bonnie.

"Oh that was Fredbear senior and his friend Golden Bonnie. He was Freddy's um…dad. They were the original gang, back when it was Fredbear's dinner. Freddy senior even worked here for a while before he and his friend had to… retire. Apparently they didn't get on very well with some of the staff."

Her face seems to go a little pale as she mumbles that last bit, though it could just be moonlight which was starting to peak through the windows.

"Anyway, I guess Freddy picked up where his dad left off and everything is all good."

You nod happily, stroking the huge ostrich feather that draped over the brim of your new hat. The girl stands and gives you a little pat on the back.

"Anyway, looks like they're about to sing happy birthday kid, you should probably get back to the party."

"I don't want to. I'd rather stay here with you and Foxy."

She looks at you apologetically. "I know that feeling all too well kid. But there are some things we have to do no matter how much we hate doing it."

For a moment she reminds you of mum and you nod solemnly.

"Yeah I guess. Thank you again for the present," you look up at the Fazbear employees badge on her shirt pocket, "Lizabeth."

"Your welcome." She smiles her warm smile and you find yourself hoping this isn't the last time you will meet her, she was pretty cool.

"Thanks Foxy."

Begrudgingly you meander back to the party listening to Elizabeth and Foxy finish their days work.

"Ok Foxy lets get you into night mode."

"Yargh, tis good there be no more singin' round here."

"You know, if I didn't know better I'd say there was a creepy, creative deliberateness to some of the things you say."

You're so busy basking in your own joy and preening the dust of your new hay you don't notice Bobby Reese is waiting for you.

"Nice hat. Who gave it to you?"

You hide your hands and the spiked arm band behind your back. Why won't the little hell spawn give you a minutes peace? You begin to wonder if he invited you here just so that he had something to brutalize in the seconds between all the dotage and pampering.

"Was it Foxy? How come he didn't give me a pirate hat?"

"Maybe, because you already got one from Freddy," you hiss between tight teeth, glaring at the purple top hat on Bobby's head.

He moves to snatch it from your head but this time you dodge his grabbing little hands and pull the hat down on your head. You are not giving this up.

"Give me it!"

"No!"

He stamps his foot and you know what's coming next.

"Mum!" He shrieks loud enough to shatter glass and runs over to his mother, seizing her dress with all the zeal of a drowning man.

"Mum I want a pirate hat! How come I didn't get a pirate hat!?"

There is confusion on the faces of all the adults, but then Bobby points to you and all eyes at the table turn on you accusingly. You feel hot rage boil in your head, your temples throbbing as your rage sizzles. It is as if all your buried anger was slowly reanimating and digging its way out from the shallow grave in your heart. You shake, ready to burst as you go over to Bobby and hand over your coveted hat. Your mouth is pressed into a string thin line.

"It's your birthday Bobby you can have the hat."

You see a hand holding the hat out for the hateful little Bobby, but it is not your hand.

"Aw that's so sweet."

"That's very kind of you."

The accolades drift in one ear and out the other. "It's ok," you say, but they are not your words.

Everybody crowds around to admire 'Bobby's' new hat, they pat him on the back and put him on his pedestal. You don't want to be around them anymore. It's as if they were stealing the very air from your lungs. You wait until everyone is singing happy birthday, you wait until you're the unnoticed child and then you slip away.

The bathroom has been your refuge before, when Bobby and his big brother had chased you around the lunch area at school. You know you can hide there.

You slide silently past all the busy people, the anger sizzling to frustration and despair. The tears prick your eyes and the pain in your chest balloons. You look to your watch, your prized digital watch that Jen had got you for your birthday. You want to cry but you stop yourself. You push open the door to the restroom, find an empty stall, you slip inside and slam the door shut.

You hate that Bobby and his friends so much it hurts. Your little fingers grip into tight fists; it makes you feel a bit better. You sit shaking as time grates by. You're not sure how much time. You look at your watch again willing the numbers to turn over, imagining what mum was doing with each beat of the seconds. Thinking of mum, brave, tall mother who is the defender of the universe makes you forget your despair and dulls the fire in your mind. You feel braveness because you know neither she nor dad would ever let anything bad happen to you. You don't care when you hear the restroom door gently open and close, you pay no heed to the heavy footsteps on the ceramic tiles because mum was on her way and soon you would be back in the comfort of home. Jen would listen to you pour your heart out and sooth you with her stories and jokes. Dad would encourage you to forget the stupid boy and tomorrow you'd play with your real friends from next door on your bikes with their super soakers.

The friendly thoughts quiet your soul and steady the tempest in your mind.

Darkness.

You jump as the lights go out. The momentary reprieve is lost as quickly as it had come and the familiar surge of terror makes your heart beat hard and your fingers to tremble. For a minute you just sit listening, frozen as confusion and panic drown your thoughts. The soft artificial tick of your watch and the rapid drum of your little heart is deafening under the sudden assault of adrenaline across your senses. You try to see but the darkness is crushing and total. A little angry thought slithers through your mind.

 _Is this another one of Bobby's horrible pranks?_

You can hear the last lines of a discordant happy birthday and cheers as candles are no doubt being blown out. The voices sound so muted and far away your panic rises a little more.

 _No it's not Bobby._

You stare into the dark all around you; suddenly all of the nameless, shapeless things that haunt your nightmares are now part of that dark, waiting nothingness. Huddled in the shadows you feel your private world shatter. You are alone and for the first time in your life you truly and utterly understand what that means. If something were to happen to you here and now, an accident, something horrible, you couldn't look to the protection of you friends and family's love, the Police, or anyone else, in this instant there is nothing that can protect you, all that exists is yourself and the ravenous dark.

A coldness like ice cream swallowed too quickly starts to blossom in your throat, stomach, spine and limbs; you are instantly cold as ice winds. The gnawing panic starts to make the air feel thin while your limbs become weak as jelly.

Had someone made a mistake and locked you in here? What if no one came and you were trapped in here all night, in the dark? Your breaths start to come short and shallow. Is that a trick of the mind or does it look as if the shadow walls are closing in on you.

 _Get out. Get out now._ The piercing thought is like a bolt of electricity through your flesh.

Your little feet hit the floor as you shove your hands out in front of pushing against the darkness, searching. You feel the cold surface of the stall door, your hands move higher searching for the lock but just as your fingers brush against the turn lock you go still.

You're not alone.

The melodious sound of metal striking metal drifts through the darkness. You've heard that sound before. Your tiny mind turns over, searching through the fog of panic. Was that the subdued jingle of keys?

Something older than fear and older than thought suddenly stirs in you. You sniff the air and tilt your head, searching. Underneath the stale smell of cheap hand wash and watered down disinfectant you smell something fresh, something living. It was the smell of an adult, one of those scents they spray on themselves - deodorant? Aftershave? perfume? It smelled like a man.

With deliberate slowness you crouch down onto the floor, pressing your face against the cold wet tiles to see under the stall door. You don't care about the soggy toilet paper which is starting to stick to your cheek. Fear has taken you beyond that. There is something out there in the nebulous darkness, an intangible menace lurking in the shadows waiting for you.

Blackness recedes as your body remembers what your mind forgot, your eyes seeing through the dark. There, just at the edge of your visibility was a pair of black shoes. They look like your dad's office shoes. So it was a man…a man in the shadows.

A part of you wants to call out to the man, to surrender to the solace and comfort of adult wisdom and strength, but your lips firmly cage the impulse. You may be young but your paranoia is well nourished. You know something is amiss here; some crouching malignancy was waiting for you out there, every inch of your being says so.

Perhaps you should scream, holler for help? No. Even if your shout was heard down the hall, even if it wasn't lost amidst the hundreds of shrieks and squeals coming from the other children, in the time it took for someone to come running and find you, so much could happen.

After all, the blackness all around you was just waiting to chomp down; and in one titanically freezing second all could be concluded. Long before the other children realized you were missing, long before mum or dad would come to your help or the police came searching for you, all eight years of your life could be stolen away by the waiting stillness and the shadow man.

Through the dark you see the thin slither of light beneath the restroom door, calling out a siren call of safety and hope. Your mind is turning faster now; every muscle twitch and impulse urges you to seek out that light and the sounds of life beyond. But that distance between you and the door seems insurmountable, especially with the lurking stranger waiting just outside.

 _The window._

You're not sure where the thought comes from but the gentle breeze on the back of your neck beckons to you, like a ghostly hand leading you to safety. Framed by moonlight, the thin window hangs open just enough for you to squeeze your small form through. You can reach it if you climb up the toilet. Yes the window was your only salvation and you decide to make a break for it. But just as the thought solidifies in your mind the gentle sound of shifting weight, of fabric sliding against skin draws you back to ugly reality. You watch, frozen with horror as the shadow man crouches down like a sprinter at the starting line. You see purple sleeves, the Freddy Fazbear logo, his chilling smile, and his hungry, wild eyes.

"Hey there kiddo."

Your body springs to action like a coiled snake, moving before you even ask it too.

There is a flurry of movement somewhere in the darkness behind you. A crushing grip seizes your ankle; there is the feeling of moving through space, pain and the taste of blood as your head cracks against something. You feel the floor cold as ice against your body as you're torn from your refuge and through the darkness by a savage strength, the likes of which you have never known.

Your little arms and legs flail, searching for something to seize but the world feels as if it has just fallen away. A shadow looms over you and you see his face again, his eyes raved wide and nostrils flared. A few strands of hair, black as winter's night, fall across his forehead like dark fingers as you feel the weight of him on your chest, light but heavy, an anvil of weight threatening to crush you if you failed to yeild. You thrash to be free, but your arms are pinned under strong legs and the face peering down at you is so full of evil glee, so brimful of malevolence, so monstrous that you find yourself paralysed by fear.

Somewhere you here yourself shriek.

"Shush, shush, shush," you smell sweat and taste bitter as a huge hand covers and crushes your face with a vindictive squeeze. He chuckles and it sounds wrong, haunting, like the rumble of dying thunder.

His hand suddenly finds your throat. It tightens like a vice bit by bit. The sinew and bone in your neck pops and groans against the assault, your young frail muscles warp, crushing the life force from you. You scream and shout, but it is all in your mind, no sound comes from your gaping mouth. You can see your heart slamming painfully against your chest like a frantic little animal trying to claw its way out from behind your ribs. A terrifying numbness starts to crawl its way up your legs but that is nothing compared to the pressure building behind your eyes, forcing them to bulge from your skull.

You smell his breath, his odour as the hot hand around your throat starts to tighten with deliberate and cruel slowness. He breaths hard and fast. Your desperation grows as you feel life slip from your gaping mouth, the pain giving away to the terrifying numbness that threatens to steal you away from this world.

The body above you shifts its weight and you feel freedom. You lash out. Again and again you swing your free arm, like a striking cobra, your fangs the spiked bracelet. You hit something wet and you push with all the strength your body has left to give. The bracelet sinks into flesh and the hand instantly leaves your throat.

"Argh! You little fucking brat!"

The hate and malevolence that drips from those words promises such pain and horrors. You don't hesitate, you don't look back. Somehow you see through the darkness, your body finding its way. You climb up though the blackness as if you had wings, the window pulling you toward it with some unknown force. You wrench yourself through the small gap, the kiss of moonlight and the cold air on your face is so welcoming. It is freedom, it is survival and it is something you will never forget. You slip through the window and fall to the ground.

You're running, feet slapping against the warm concrete as you search out the voices ringing in your ears, you search for Bobby's sneering face and the accusing glares. Oh God! Anyone, anyone to save you from the evil that was chasing you.

You barge through the pizzeria entrance, the glass door feeling so much heavier than it had earlier, but no one notices you. You stand behind the crowded table where the children scramble over each other to get their party bags but no one notices you.

The ache and strain of your muscles finally finds its way through the fog of your mind and suddenly you feel unbearable explosions and sickness in your body. Your bones are racked with every kind of pain, cold and hot, and unlike anything you had ever thought or experienced in your wildest nightmares. Your heart aches with every beat but still refuses to slow.

"Hey there little one! Why are you all alone over here? "

You look up to see Freddy's smiling muzzle looking down at you. The animatronic bear cocks his head and softens his expression. You don't say anything, you stand with your hands at your sides, you mouth open, your eyes wide dull, not moving.

"Now what's this?"

A black bear claw reaches out with delicate precision and lightly touches something on your head. You watch the claw as it passes by your nose, its tip covered with glistening, wet red. Blood. Your blood. Freddy holds the claw in front of his nose inspecting it, his metal mind making audible clicks as it churns. The bear suddenly snaps ridged with a disturbing crack.

"All alone," he repeats, "all alone." He speaks, but it is not the warm friendly voice you know. The sound slurs and warps in your ears like melting ice cream.

"All alone," the static becomes worse and the voice deeper. "All alone. Hurt. A-alone." The bear's body slumps, his eyes half lidded.

"Hey look! You broke Freddy!"

You can hear Bobby's accusation somewhere in the back of your mind but you're not really listening. Something foul and yellow was dripping down Freddy's nose. It falls to the ground with a loud splat.

"All alone, hurting, all alone."

The words are lost in a sea of static as Freddy's mouth chomps open and closed out of sync with his words. Something dark starts to dribble out the corners of his mouth staining his fur. It flicks and spits against your face as he talks. You watch yourself reach up and wipe the warm slobber away, seeing the streaks of red on your palm. The sickly yellow globs running down the plastic nose are thick as cream now, the blood spittle dripping out in long ropy strands.

"Mum!? MUMMY!"

You're not sure where the crowd has come from but they hem you and Freddy in a tight circle. Your eyes don't leave Freddy's as the bear looks deep into you with inhuman desperation. His words are nothing more than a deep mechanical gurgle now, the pungent smell of rot vomiting from the machine mouth.

You can't take it anymore. Something breaks inside you and crumbles into a million pieces, your mouth opens and your little lungs fill with the dead air. The scream is loud and shrill. It tears at your throat and makes your mouth dry. Freddy screams with you. The sounds melt together, a shriek like tearing metal and a breathy pained hysteria, mechanical agony and human horror.

Then everything goes quiet, nothing moves.

Everyone is staring at you now.

Darkness grows in the corners of your vision, everything becomes a blur of colour and light and then there is nothing but silence and dark.

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(author's note: just a little extra for anyone brave and patient enough to read through my attempts at writing – the voice of the murderer, Freddy and his gang, as I have written them, have been based off the amazing voice acting of David Near. If you haven't already come across his stuff in the fandom, look him up on youtube and be both inspired and horrified.)


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2.

Elizabeth Patterson stood behind the police cordon, watching transfixed as blood leaked from somewhere deep in Freddy's mouth, the viscous liquid pooling behind his teeth before slowly dripping into the puddle beneath him with a soft pat. She dry retched and turned away from the twisted sight, unable to deal with the foul smell.

In the commotion that had followed the incident the vile stuff had been smeared and trampled all over the restaurant floor like some grotesque artwork. It looked like a scene straight from a horror movie, so surreal. You could call her crazy but Liz was sure that the blood had stained more than the floor. Everything had suddenly been tainted with some unseen malice. The usually bright and colourful restaurant seemed dull, every shadowed corner looked like it could be concealing some dark secret and the once cute childish decor had become unsettling. Liz hugged herself. There was a vast wrongness to it all.

Behind her the two officers who had turned up with the ambulance were still taking names and numbers. Most of the patrons had left their statements and wandered off into the night, some chattering incessantly, some in silence and some whispering solemnly. She looked at her fellow handlers who had been corralled into a huddle by the storage room. Their faces were ashen. Poor Marry Spallner who had been Freddy's handler for the night was as pale as the moon, panic and confusion etched across her tear stained face. She knew, as did the rest of her colleagues that this wasn't going to end well for them.

"Liz!"

She looked over her shoulder at the sound of her name. Enrique, one of the chefs skirted around the police and through the crowds toward her.

"This is pretty messed up hey Liz," he huffed as he came to stand beside her.

She nodded solemnly. "I hope the kid is alright. Have you heard any more news?"

"Not about the kid nah, but the tech guys have already checked it out."

"Seriously? They have been through already?"

"Yeah, management didn't waste any time getting them in."

"Don't suppose you heard anything useful? 

"Just the usual techno mumbo jumbo. I did hear them say they reckon a rat or something climbed in, you know, chewed up wires and got caught in the machinery."

The two of them looked at the fallen mascot and the blood splashed from end to end of the entrance hall.

"That must have been a big rat."

Enrique nodded silently. "Have you talked to the cops or Phil yet?"

Liz didn't hear him she was staring at Freddy again. It was odd, but she was sure her unease was fuelled by more than just uncertainty and revulsion. There was an element of despair to her horror, which was odd. After all it was nothing more than an elaborate puppet and yet…

"Liz."

"Sorry." She snapped her attention back to Enrique who was looking at her concerned.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am fine. It's just been a long day." She inhaled and stiffened slightly.

"Hey, do you think we should give Marry a lift home? I don't think she should be left alone tonight."

Enrique looked over at brunette who was shaking under the scrutinizing gaze of the cop taking her statement.

"Yeah, I think you're right," he muttered.

They waited until the officer was done with Marry. Unsurprisingly he took longer with her than he had with the others. Liz vented some of her tension with a sigh. Marry looked broken. Her hair was dishevelled and her eyes red and swollen. The perky bounce in her step was gone and the limitless energy she usually possessed looked as it was finally spent.

"Are you ok?" Liz knew it was a stupid question but she felt compelled to ask it anyway.

Marry looked up at her co-workers and friends with a desperate look.

"It wasn't my fault Liz, I didn't mean for this to happen." She folded her hands together tightly and brought them to her chest. "God, I wish I could just turn back the clock." She slumped looking utterly defeated.

Liz put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Do you want a lift back with Enrique and me?"

Marry shook her head, the strands of messed hair tossing about her shoulders. "Seems like everyone was eager to get out of here," she gestured to the emptying foyer. "I have to wait for the nightshift guy now anyway."

Liz mentally shrugged. She never had understood why a pizza joint needed a damn night security guard, or a day one for that matter.

"We'll wait with you," Enrique offered.

"Come on," Liz took her hand, "we're not leaving without you."

Marry didn't say anything but let Liz lead her all the same. She shuddered as they turned and walked past the gruesome scene to the kitchen, and Liz felt the stiff squeeze she gave her hand.

She led Marry and Enrique around the police tape which webbed through the main halls and party rooms. The restaurant looked so wrong, empty and abandoned as it was. Even with the lights on and the stoves not yet cool it felt like the life was slowly ebbing away. The hot smell of charred cheese and pastry was already thinning and the warmth from a hundred little bodies and burning food had somehow already chilled in the summer night.

"It wasn't your fault Marry. It was just one of those freaky happenings."

Enrique gave Marry's shoulder a soft little squeeze and Liz found herself glad Enrique was at her side. He'd always been like a brother to her and with his huge build and no nonsense attitude she felt a little safer. What she was afraid of or what he needed to protect her from though she wasn't exactly sure.

Liz swallowed back the lump in her throat, trying not to notice how unusually loud their footsteps sounded.

"If it's anyone's fault it's mine," she suddenly declared. "I met the kid earlier tonight. Some of the brats at the Reese party were a little brutal so Foxy and I had to provide moral support. I should have watched more closely after that." She paused and looked over her shoulder at Enrique who was glancing at the moving shadows. Could he feel it too?

"And if that Turner kid hadn't puked on Lou and distracted you and Liz none of this would have happened." Enrique joined in, trying desperately to alleviate Marry's guilty conscience.

"Yeah, and if Josh hadn't of literally just up and left the other night we would have had enough hands on the floor. You see it was a perfect storm of crap that all happened at the wrong time."

"Freddy must have wandered off while we were cleaning it up," Marry muttered as if she were replaying the whole scenario over again in her head.

Liz nodded in agreement. "And where the hell was James? Wasn't he supposed to have stored Bonnie for the night and come back to help?"

"Probably went to have a smoke in the safe room. You know what he is like."

"Or he could have gone to help Lou," Marry offered.

The three of them passed the stage where Bonnie and Chica stood still and statuesque.

"T-that scream," Marry whispered suddenly.

Enrique shook his head, his sandy hair bobbing about his eyes. "Poor kid."

"It wasn't the kid. It was Freddy" A strange, distant look started to fill Marry's eyes and Liz found herself glad they had decided to stay with her.

Enrique stopped and looked Liz squarely in the eye seeking her clarification, expecting her to tell him it was just poor Marry's shattered state or that it was just an acoustical trick but Liz did none of those things, just held his gaze.

Enrique's face fell. "You're telling me Freddy…screamed?"

"That sound certainly didn't come from a human," Marry said with a tremble in her voice.

Enrique seemed to pause and let that last revelation sink in. Without sharing a word all three of them turned and looked at the two remaining mascots on the stage, their mannequin stares and gaping mouths a disturbing mimicry of a silent scream. Both Enrique and Liz stood frozen, waiting, almost daring something happen. A balloon bounced across the ceiling, pushed by a breath of air from an open window but Bonnie and Chica and the rest of the restaurant remained still as death.

She continued, but in a much softer voice. "The poor kid. Freddy had fallen on them and I freaked out because the poor little thing had their eyes closed and with all that blood for a moment I thought… Lou checked the kid over for any serious injuries. Those things are heavy," she nodded toward Bonnie and Chica, "It was just a couple of cuts and bruises though."

Enrique nodded solemnly, letting Marry tell the rest of the story as if it was somehow purging all her guilty feelings.

"Let's just lock up and get home yeah? We'll sort everything out tomorrow," Liz offered.

They reached the kitchen and Liz pushed open the door marked staff only. She expected the usual rush of hot air and culinary scents to wash over her but was instead greeted with nothing but dry, stale air. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Oh god she wanted to get back to her apartment so badly.

Marry wandered off to grab her own bag from the back of the kitchen. Liz waited until she was out of earshot.

"Hey are the tech guys still here?"

Enrique picked up her backpack which was stored beneath one of the benches and handed it to her.

"I don't think so. Why?"

Liz watched as the kitchen door swung shut, sealing away the prying shadows that stretched from the party stage. "Foxy has been acting up, nothing bad, but after tonight I thought it'd better to make sure."

"I hear you," Enrique broke in, "with those teeth and that hook that thing could do some serious damage. They'll probably be back tomorrow. You can tell them then."

Liz gave him an incredulous look. "Foxy is harmless Rick."

"Yeah, like Freddy I'm sure."

Liz bit her bottom lip. He had a point. Still, she couldn't picture Foxy hurting anyone. He may have been just wires, metal and circuits, but after working around the machine for so long she had become familiar with his quirks and workings, and that familiarity had bred a fondness for the hopeless thing. Besides they were just oversized puppets, what was the worst they could do?

Enrique sighed. "Let's get this over with. I'll clean up around here, why don't you go do a final sweep. "

He grabbed his duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. "The nightshift guard should be here any minute so don't be too long."

She nodded and gestured for Marry to come with her. The two girls left Enrique and the kitchen and went back out into the restaurant. The door clicked shut behind them and immediately, that ominous chill started to trickle the back of her neck again. The hushed chatter of the remaining staff had died down and the empty building seemed to be growing colder and darker by the second. Perhaps her earlier shock hadn't dulled as much as she thought it had because the air seemed thick with that imperceptible menace again. It clung to her skin and shallowed her breaths.

They wandered forward, half-heartedly checking that everything was in its proper place for the night, their pace quickening just a little as they walked past the party stage.

"Wha-where is everyone?"

Marry shrugged. "The police finished with us pretty fast. They must have all gone home I guess."

It didn't feel right but Liz swallowed her apprehension anyway.

"Right," she looked around. "I'll go check the storage room. You get started on the party rooms."

Marry nodded and slowly ambled off, her feet slowed by her restless mind. Liz however had a bit more pace to her walk as she strode toward the repair room. Every bit of her wanted to leave this place.

The door to the repair room was unlocked. Liz rubbed her temples. This night was becoming more and more surreal. She peeked around the door. The stillness of the repair room offered little solace. The various hanging limbs and empty suit heads made the room seem full of dead bodies. It felt like a mechanical morgue. So silent. None of the humming, whirring energy that Liz was used to hearing in the animatronics. She edged forward giving all the broken parts a wide berth as if expecting them to come alive and grab her. Nothing looked like it had been disturbed or moved.

 _Probably one of the tech guys forgot to lock it_ , she thought.

"Screw it." Ignoring the dead stares of the empty heads she turned and left the room, fumbled through her pockets for her staff key, closed and locked the door.

Marry was coming out of one of the party rooms just as Liz bolted the door shut.

"All good here."

"We should probably check the back then."

Liz caught up with Marry and the two walked down the main hall, huddling a little closer together. Neither of them noticed the thick black tears that were oozing down the faces of the paper plate characters though or the empty space where Freddy had laid sprawled not moments ago.

The restaurant had been left messy and uncleaned. Cups party hats and plates were still on the tables and floor, as if the building had been caught in a moment of time just as the nights festivities had gone sour. Apparently they had been ordered to leave everything for the health and safety guys to come and check out. It bothered Liz a bit and added to the unfamiliar, unnatural feeling that seemed to have gripped the usually whimsical and warm restaurant.

She left Marry's side to go and check the security desk. Everything was where it was supposed to be, it was perhaps the only part of the restaurant that had maintained a degree of normalcy. Liz frowned. Now that she thought of it she hadn't seen the dayshift guy all afternoon. Then again she had been rather distracted tonight and it looked like he had taken the time to set everything right for the nightshift guy despite the evening's chaos. She was about to flick up the security feed screen when a panicked shriek made her jump. She bolted instinctively toward the desperate cry.

Marry was standing rigid at the mouth of the bathroom corridor, her hands clasped over her mouth, staring wide eyed at something.

Liz ran up to her side. She grabbed Marry's shoulder but the girl wouldn't turn away from whatever it was she was staring at. Liz followed her gaze. A familiar silhouette was standing in the tight space, cast in shadow.

"Foxy!"

The animatronic fox was standing frozen in place, his jaw hanging open, his arms outstretched. Panic started to rise like bile at the back of Liz's throat.

"You put him away didn't you Liz?" Marry's voice was barley a whisper and she didn't take her eyes of Foxy.

"I-I am sure I put him into night mode."

They stared at the fox and he stared back, none of them moving.

"What are you doing here buddy?" It was useless and probably a little neurotic talking to the machine like she was, but after so many years of maintaining the illusion of life for the younger patrons it had become something of a habit. It was also helping to steady her nerves.

"Come on. It's party time." She gave the command that would trigger clever programs and set gears to return the animatronic to his stage but Foxy just stood and stared. He opened his mouth as if to say something but snapped it shut instead.

Liz looked at Marry who gave a tight shake of her head. She ignored the imploring look in her friend's eyes. Foxy was her responsibility and if she wanted to keep her job she was going to have to get him back to where he was supposed to be.

"It's party time Foxy."

She slowly started to walk toward the unmoving animatronic Enrique's words echoing through her head. Perhaps it was just her paranoid mind but it almost looked as if the fox was trying to block the corridor, trying to keep them away. She looked him up and down, looking for any clue as to how he had ended up in the back bathroom corridor.

"Ah shit Foxy, look at your tail."

The fluffy fox tail was lying in a puddle of water that had leaked out from underneath the bathroom door. The orange fur had gone a dark wet brown.

She crept forward like someone navigating a mine field, every movement gentle and measured. The animatronic made no move toward her, just watched. She gingerly picked up the tip of his tail between her fingers, water dripping from the hanging fur. With a loud snap the animatronic sprung to life and twisted his head around almost ninety degrees to look at Liz. She bit her tongue to stop herself from crying out.

The sharp teeth that lined Foxy's mouth may have been just plastic but they looked particularly dangerous tonight, especially so close to Liz's face. She looked at the anthropomorphised fox face which was looking at her, really looking at her. In spite of her fatigue and discomfort Liz felt her breath catch in her throat. Perhaps it was her tired mind distorted by the adrenaline but she could have sworn there was something almost desperate in that look.

"It's party time Foxy." There was a grim determination to her tone this time and it seemed to work. Foxy's wedge ears drooped and his face fell in disappointment but he obeyed and finally turned to head back to his little cove. The pirate fox shuffled down the hall in his hobbling gait. Liz usually found the awkward parody of human movement rather amusing but after all the bizarre happenings, and with her job potentially on the line the last of her good humour had been spent.

"I'm going to have to dry this." She jangled Foxy's tail. Marry pressed against the wall as the pirate fox ambled past but nodded all the same.

"I'll make sure some idiot hasn't deliberately flooded the sinks again," she muttered to Liz's back as the other girl left her alone in the dark hall.

"Ok. Shout if you need a hand yeah?"

"Yeah."

Marry barged into the bathroom and immediately wished she hadn't. The feeling was instant and potent, as if someone had just poured ice cold water down her back. She looked over the empty bathroom, her Converse squeaking on the wet floor as she peered at the empty stalls. Other than the steady drip of water from the centre sink everything was still.

As she tentatively stepped forward the room grew freezer cold threatening to steal all the living warmth from her. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, gasping at the unnatural sensation. She spotted an open window, and ran over to close it. It was an awkward reach so she kicked the toilet seat down and used it to climb up. She shouldn't have been doing this; it was the security guy's job to lock up. She made a mental note to scold the bastard tomorrow.

The warm night air that breezed past her outstretched arm made her hesitate. She grabbed the latch and was about to pull shut the window when she caught something out of the corner of her eye. A large smear of blood stained the purple frame and bloody bits of hair were stuck to the sharp edge of the window. Her mouth went dry and her unease grew.

"What the-?"

She leaned forward and studied the disturbing evidence of violence. Without thinking she reached out to touch it. Just as her finger wrapped around the fame the soft sound of footsteps and an awareness of moving shadows pulled her back.

"Hey Liz look a-"

She froze, goose-bumps suddenly swelled down her arms and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

Freddy's massive frame filled the door. His head hung limply to the side, his body drooping as if bearing some invisible weight on his back. Blood soaked the front of his belly, making the nylon fur sag and glisten a dark wet black.

Marry felt herself slide down the wall, unable to tear her eyes off the broken bear.

"Hey there Kiddo."

He spoke but his mouth didn't move. He stood completely rigid his eyes remaining fixated on Marry's face. The voice came from somewhere deep in the black of his throat as if spoken by some unseen entity within. It made a shiver crawl down her spine.

"What are you doing out here all alone?"

Marry almost opened her mouth to reply but caught herself. He was malfunctioning. Replying was probably going to make a bad situation worse. He seemed to be locked in some long lost memory, talking to a phantom that no longer existed.

"Where are your parents?

His soft country voice became edgier. It wasn't the friendly voice she was so used to hearing. As her mind pulled itself back together the other little discrepancies became apparent. The intonation was all wrong and the words themselves seemed devoid of the usual jovial innocence.

"Do they know you are here?"

No, actually there was a sense of joy carried in the words…or was it excitement. Marry couldn't tell but there was something off, something unpleasant.

Dripping blood mixed with the water pooled on the floor as Freddy stared at her with inhuman intensity, his haunting words rolling over and over in her mind.

The bear took a step forward and Marry felt her panic explode.

"LIZ!"

He plodded toward her his movements even more broken than usual, his head lolling to the side as if on a snapped neck. Marry scrambled backward, falling as she hit the wall. Her feet kicked out but slipped ineffectually against the wet tiles.

Freddy drew closer until he loomed above her. The notes of his theme song started to crank to life in the tight space.

Marry scrambled to her feet and made a mad dash for the door but the air thinned around her as if stolen away by some invisible force. Something ice cold and incorporeal materialized in the darkness and seized her ankle mid stride. She sprawled forward, her chin smacking down on the porcelain sink, teeth clamping shut like a spring trap on her tongue. Warm, copper tasting blood filled her mouth and spilled out over her lips. The adrenaline spread the pain across agitated nerves, burning out her thoughts and making her choke out a pained gag. She rolled over, flailing, trying to recover but Freddy was already standing over her just as he had been before, moving like the pages of a flip book.

Marry looked up at Freddy's smiling muzzle, at his now dark hollow eyes. The nothingness in the empty eye sockets shifted. Hot anger, fear and confusion tumbled about like leaves in the wind. As marry gawked the darkness started to take shape. Two dead white eyes suddenly slid together and stared at her from within Freddy's head. They were the eyes of a child, wild, wide and as angry as they were terrified. The milky white orbs looked down at Marry as one of Freddy's bear paws reached out for her.

Marry didn't recognize the sound that came from her throat. The twisted scream reverberated off the walls and carried itself through the restaurant.

Something grabbed the back of her shirt collar and she lashed out instinctively. She was tugged violently out of the bathroom, Freddy's horrible visage falling away as she was dragged out of the bathroom and down the hall.

Liz didn't stop, didn't look back as she pulled Marry down the main hall, her own terror pounding in her ears. At some point her friend seemed to find her feet. Scrambling up both Marry and Liz bolted down the hall and out the front door, their ragged breaths breaking the silent stillness.

They didn't stop when they got to the door, they didn't stop when they crossed the car park, they kept running until they found Enrique waiting in his car down the road, the engine purring in a warm and welcome idle.

" What happened? Are you guys ok?"

The two girls tumbled into the car, white as ash and still panting. "Go!"

"Wait! Did you guys lock-"

"Just drive!" Marry shriek from the back.

The shrill desperation in her voice was enough for Enrique to pull the car into gear and speed off with a screech of tires. Behind the fleeing car the glass door the girls had so violently crashed through was still gently pulling to a close, sealing the horrors within. Just as the door finally fell shut with a soft thud a lone figure strolled across the empty parking lot with casual abandon, toward the now abandoned restaurant. It was twelve o'clock, time for the nightshift guard to start his shift…


	3. Chapter 3

Foxy's mechanical ears twitched, twisting left and right as they picked up the sounds of shoes slapping against the hard floor. He turned his head toward the noise, his optic sensors seeing through the dull light.

The one who watched over him and the one that watched over Freddy were racing through the hall toward the front doors. They didn't stop to shut off the lights or lock the doors as they usually did, they just ran. Ran through the hall, out the door and into the world beyond that was locked off to Foxy.

He watched them disappear into the night before settling into his mechanical, wide-awake sleep. He had barley begun to loose himself in the usual slow of data when he was pulled back into a state of alertness.

His ears flicked and twitched again as the sound of laughter fluttered through the empty space like a hanging sheet in a breeze. The sound switched on fundamental programs that cascaded into something that approximated joy and happiness. It compelled him to seek out the source to the voice. He knew it was wrong to leave his stage after he had been rested for the night but that intrinsic part of him that was impossible to ignore overrode all his hesitations. There were children to entertain.

Foxy lifted himself up and jumped off his stage. He craned his head in the direction of the sound. It seemed so distant but so close at the same time. He gave Bonnie and Chica a cursory glance to see if they too had heard the laughter but they remained blank and unmoving, still lost in their dreamless sleep. Errors started to flag him to the unnaturalness of the situation but he couldn't help but be drawn toward the sound. His very nature demanded he continue.

He padded through the hall, stoping every few feet to listen for the laughter. The child voice was still echoing across the walls but it wasn't laughing anymore. Another voice had joined the first and the two began a chorus of dry raspy whispers in some unintelligible tongue. The whispering seemed to grow louder, more focused as if laying out a trail for Foxy to follow.

He came to the end of the hall where the lone man would usually sit through the night. Tonight however, the chair was empty and the desk unattended.

Foxy flicked his tail in confusion, code and data misfiring and getting lost within itself.

 _So many strange things tonight._

He wandered back to the bathrooms he'd woken up next to not moments before. His minder had found him and ushered him back to his stage and yet here he was again. His minded ticked over. There seemed to be something important about this place, some reason he was suppose to be here. Like his pirate cove, a place of importance was one that you always found yourself coming back to. The voices grew louder and more insistent sounding like the scratching, tapping of finger nails on glass.

Foxy waddled over to the door and walked straight into it. It squeaked open as he pushed passed it and into the dark.

"Captain Fazbear!"

Freddy's bulky form materialized in the dark before him. He was standing so close Foxy had to back up so his nose wasn't pressed into the bear's chest. There was a moment of hesitation and stillness between the two animatronics. Foxy knew he wasn't supposed to be in the bathrooms, the constant errors and overrides scrolling through his head reinforcing his unpleasant mechanical anxiety. Still, Foxy was a pirate and pirates could do bad things every now and again. Freddy on the other hand was a do-gooder through and through. It was unlike the big bear break with his programming. In fact it should have been **impossible** for the big bear to go against his programming.

Foxy stuttered in confusion, his voice glitching slightly. "Captain Fazdbear?"

When Freddy didn't respond Foxy edged a bit closer, his camera irises opening wider to better see through the dark. His bear colleague was covered in something dark that glistened in the low light. The two eyes sitting above the round muzzle were hollow, a piercing dot of hot light burning in the middle of darkness like a star falling into a black hole.

The bear remained still, completely unresponsive to Foxy's cues, not even lifting his head to look at him. The vulpine edged closer.

"Captain Fazbear!"

He barked the call much louder this time, but the bear still didn't twitch. Foxy's ears fell. Freddy was obviously broken. It all was the only logical answer, the only way to describe his fellow animatronics' bizarre behaviour. He raised his hook hand and pocked the bear in the stomach, trying one last time to trigger a reaction. It worked.

Freddy lashed out faster than Foxy's sensors could register and caught his arm in one of his big paws.

"Foxy."

When Freddy spoke it was with two voices, his deep voice and southern drawl echoed by a distorted groan of barley audible syllables.

"Do you want to play with us Foxy?"

He couldn't answer Freddy, he was too busy forcing all of his processing power into removing the fist gripping his arm. The shock of having his 'partner' attack him had left the mechanical fox free falling into a panicked rush of variables and inconstancies. This was unprecedented, abnormal, beyond the comprehensible. His mechanical mind protected itself from succumbing to a inevitable oblivion of terror and confusion by fixating on one outcome, one train of thought: escaping the broken mascot and retreating back to the safety of his cove. He didn't want to be here anymore. He wiggled and squirmed, growing more frantic and rough as the attempts to free himself were thwarted.

"Please play with us Foxy."

 _Play? Play what? A song? A game? Us? Why is Freddy broken? Why is this happening? How-_

The errant numbers and unanswerable equations that formed the questions were cut off and eliminated before they could overwhelm him. It wasn't right. It wasn't right. It didn't make sense; there was no reason, no answers, no solutions. He needed to get back to his stage. The thought consumed him and with one violent thrash Foxy lunged backward toward the door.

The sound of fabric tearing and metal popping and shearing hit Foxy's ears with all the force of a gunshot. Freddy's arm ripped from its socket,the shredded cables bleeding sparks and hydraulic fluid. The Fox pirate went ridged as Freddy's arm tore away from the big bear's body, the paw still clenched around his arm. The onslaught of unprocessable data crashed his mind and everything grew quiet.

He had just broken Freddy.

The bear regarded the open socket before turning back to Foxy. Something moved beneath the fur covering his stomach. The lump rolled up through his gut and his chest. The latex skin around his throat bulged like a bellowing frog as it continued to rise into Freddy's open mouth.

Black oil started to spill out the sides of his rubber lips, an overflow from the building geyser inside him. His head rocked forward, vomiting a pool of the sickening black liquid all over the restroom floor. It splatted against the tiles and collected in a puddle between their feet, trembling as if some unfelt breeze were blowing across its surface. It heaved. Rising and falling like an air sack. The centre mass rose up to a peaked mound, ballooning out into a large bubble.

Both Foxy and Freddy watched the animated liquid as it stretched. With a loud slop the mound split. Five fingers and then a hand rose from the puddle. It snapped open and slapped to the floor with a loud splat, curling up like an animal claw as the fist tightened.

Foxy backed away.

The hand grabbed at the smooth floor searching for purchase. An arm followed the hand, then a shoulder, then a head. The figure heaved itself from the pool with a sound like air inhaled into deep lungs. It thrashed forward, every movement drawn out, fatigued.

Foxy blinked.

The figure started to take form. It was a boy, a boy made of thick black ooze. His delicate face looked like a melting wax sculpture, his eyes sealed shut with thick globs of oil and his lips pressed shut by the flowing liquid. The hair on his head was slicked flush against his small skull. He flopped onto his stomach, writhing about as his body struggled against they very substance that made it. The thick slime strands that stretched over and between his limbs acted like crude binds, constricting his movement, making him bend and flex in unnatural ways. He crawled forward his limbs dissolving into black goo and reforming as he dragged himself across the floor.

Foxy backed through the door and the boy followed. The animatronic was a lot faster though and the little boy reached out in desperation, clearly trying to reach Foxy. His mouth opened as if trying to speak but the liquid stretched like a membrane across his mouth reducing his cries to nothing more than a hideous death rattle.

Foxy curled his tail around his legs as he padded down the hall, trying to tuck all of himself away from the reaching thing while still been close enough to watch and observe the strange boy.

He was torn. One half of him was still determined to retreat back to his cove and return to the slumber he shouldn't have left but another part of him was fascinated by this new kind of child and wanted to help appease the boy who seemed unhappy and in trouble.

"What's ye name?"

The crawling thing stoped, pulling itself together it rocked forward, the puddle sucking in to form a torso and legs. It twisted and flopped as it tired to stand, the skinny legs collapsing in on themselves as it took a step.

Foxy backed away as it stumbled toward him, its arms outstretched like a tightrope walker. The children weren't allowed to touch the animatronics with their sticky rough hands. That was a rule.

The boy opened and closed his mouth like a suffocating fish, but his words were silent.

Foxy turned up the sensitivity of his audio sensors but the only sound was the scuttle or rats paws and the slow trickle of water running through pipes. The conflicting data and inputs were starting to become too much for the beleaguered fox pirate. He looked over his shoulder to the main hall where his stage was waiting for him.

A soft creak snapped his attention back to the empty space where the silent boy had been standing. Foxy perked his ears and strained his sensors.

 _Where did he go?_

The door to the back storage room rocked on its hinges slightly catching Foxy's attention. He waddled over to the storeroom and wedged his snout between the door and the frame.

The moonlight had punched its way through the window blinds, over the various furnishings and other things littered throughout the storeroom. The dance of moving light focused Foxy on the centre of the room. The puddle of black ooze had pooled around the base of a particularly large container. It stretched and thinned as if searching the wooden surface for something. It began to run up the sides of the crate, the thin, long fingers creeping their way upward like slowly running water.

Foxy spotted the giant print stamped on the side of the crate just as the black oil began to surround and immures the wooden frame.

Fragile.

This way up.

Package No.110, Marionette.

The black tendrils reached the crate lid and slid under the thin gap that had been left from an earlier attempt to pry it open. The puddle drained up and disappeared completely into the space within.

There was a soft thud and the sound of something large shifting gently then nothing.

Foxy walked over and placed a paw hand on the create lid and slid it closed.

W _as that what the strange boy had been after?_

Maybe he had been searching for a place of his own? It certainly made more sense to Foxy, after all he had his pirate cove, Freddy's gang had their stage and now the silent boy had his box. It was a much better solution than living inside Freddy.

"What are you doing back here?"

Foxy perked up at the sudden intrusion.

The voice was soft but commanding, its tone disarming yet not without an undercurrent of hidden menace.

Foxy pivoted to face the source of the voice. A tall shadow stood in the doorway, its posture relaxed, almost intimidating in its confidence; its features completely hidden by the dark.

Foxy knew the shadow well enough though. It was the lone man from the desk. He must have finally come to take up his nightly residence.

The lone man shifted, the hand that wasn't comfortably resting in his trouser pocket lifted something and levelled it at Foxy.

"There be rough seas ahead." It was all Foxy had to say the lone man. It was all he had to describe what he had seen.

The man tilted his head and looked at Foxy, studying him with a sharp curiosity before giving a dry, soft chuckle.

"Hm, I know. Should be fun."

There was a click and a wall of light hit Foxy square in the eyes. The onslaught of sudden stimuli fried wires and fuses. Foxy went stiff as the machines in his mind overladed and shut down one by one leaving Foxy fading into the dark.


End file.
